The Lord, the Judge, his churches warns

The Lord, the Judge, his churches warns,
Let hypocrites attend and fear,
Who place their hope in rites and forms,
But make not faith nor love their care.

Vile wretches dare rehearse his name
With lips of falsehood and deceit;
A friend or brother they defame,
And soothe and flatter those they hate.

They watch to do their neighbors wrong,
Yet dare to seek their Maker's face;
They take his cov'nant on their tongue,
But break his laws, abuse his grace.

To heav'n they lift their hands unclean,
Defiled with lust, defiled with blood;
By night they practise every sin,
By day their mouths draw near to God.

And while his judgments long delay,
They grow secure and sin the more;
They think he sleeps as well as they,
And put far off the dreadful hour.

O dreadful hour! when God draws near
And sets their crimes before their eyes!
His wrath their guilty souls shall tear,
And no deliv'rer dare to rise.